Robert Pollard can't have much to prove. Perhaps the first "ex-indie rock frontman" since Morrissey whose name doesn't require such an epitaph to be recognized, the former Ohio schoolteacher has done alright for himself through Guided By Voices' twenty-year career. Following his decision to call that band quits, GBV's departure earned a teary-eyed send-off from no more stoic a hipster rag than Pitchfork. Hitting the studio almost immediately thereafter, Pollard has released a few sort-of solo albums since 2004, and escaped with his reputation intact.
All this sets the stage for some expectations about his first double album. Applying the standard "solo record" line of thought, you'd come up with something like this: freed from any substantive obligation its creator might have felt to his critics or historians, From a Compound Eye should be free to explore Bob Pollard's collected musical ideas previously shuttered up within the Guided By Voices marquee. You'd think, in other words, there would be less Guided By Voices, more Bob Pollard.
But you'd be misunderstanding. There never was a Guided By Voices - at least not enough of one to show through on the bands' records. Sure, plenty of bands churned through auxiliary members during their lifetimes; none did it as consistently or as masterfully as Mr. Pollard. King Shit, as it were, didn't need the Golden Boys after all.
You can imagine why this reviewer might think, then, that he was listening to Half Smiles of the Decomposed, Part Two. Though Pollard's released a few albums since GBV's 2004 breakup (what, you expected some time off?), From a Compound Eye picks up right where the band's last album left off. Indie aspirants who've only heard of Guided By Voices as a progenitor of hissing, modern lo-fi, reacquaint yourselves: a lot has happened in the past ten years.
For starters, the songs have lengthened. Seriously. Maybe Pollard's showing his age, but spreading the album's twenty-six tracks over seventy minutes is practically Townshendian when compared to his earlier offerings. Fortunately, they're memorable songs. "Gold" washes the album in with sedate vocals and a tremolo guitar. Either "Field Jacket Blues" or "Dancing Girls and Dancing Men" would have near-insurmountable status as the album's lead single if they weren't followed by so many other catchy tunes.
Article comments
1 - Scott
I didn't think this would be too much different from any GBV release...guess I was right.
2 - Tom
This isn't Pollard's first solo album. It's just his first post-GBV solo album. Regardless, I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival of this album, but I too expect nothing else than typical Pollard. Regardless of what name he puts to it, Pollard's music is Pollard's music - he just finds another outlet for it when he needs it. I, for one, am fascinated by Pollard - the guy has to be one of the most consistent mass-producers of songs. I can't think of another artist that offers the fans as much music as he does that hits the target more often than not. What I love most is that he just puts it all out there and lets you decide which is best - because it's just as likely that what you love is what someone else doesn't.
Finding GBV and Pollard way late in the game, I fear I'll never catch up . . .